


cool to the touch

by gabriphales



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Dialogue Heavy, Gentle Sex, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Service Top Aziraphale (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:54:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24857944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gabriphales/pseuds/gabriphales
Summary: aziraphale helps crowley with being submissive (aka, aziraphale teaching crowley how to be pillow princess for five minutes straight)
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 124
Collections: Aziraphale/Crowley Smut Library





	cool to the touch

**Author's Note:**

> soft bottom crowley,,,,,, very good

crowley's breathing steadies. he lays flat against the bed, back to the mattress. his stomach squeezes around a hard lump of anxiety. tensing up, going firm and rigid as a board. he repeats a solid internal mantra. he's safe, he can do this. he's safe, he can do this. _he's safe, he can do this._

"still feeling up to this?" aziraphale asks him. he doesn't dare straddle crowley yet, choosing instead to trace the knobby lines of his ribcage. his fingers dangle in the hesitant touch, just barely dragging across the skin. crowley lets out a sigh, nodding his head. it's all he can manage for now.

"you know if you need me to stop i will, yes?" aziraphale asks.

"'course i do. 'm not stupid." crowley mumbles, singed by his own temper. aziraphale remains unaffected, stroking at his stomach with a limp thumb, and kissing the soft knot of his navel.

"i know, dear. but it's not about being stupid. it's about how comfortable you are."

another kiss to his belly. aziraphale must be awfully fond of that spot.

"i'm frightened." crowley admits. "of being vulnerable. of being seen."

a beat passes in silence. aziraphale letting crowley draw in another long inhale before he speaks again.

"but never of you." he finishes up with. "i could never be scared of you, angel."

"well," aziraphale smiles. "i'll make it worth your bravery. my courageous little thing."

his mouth tends to crowley's neck then, all parted lips and plaintive sounds at the taste of him. crowley wiggles slightly, unable to bear the attention without moving his body in some way. comes of being a snake, really. the urge to slither about and hide away in some dark crevice, safe from the world, is nearly feasible. but he resists it. he resists it, because he wants this more than he wants that.

"can't praise me," crowley tries to laugh, though the noise comes out hot and strained. "i'll die if you do it too much."

aziraphale tuts at him. "such theatrics. a little indulgence won't hurt, you know. let yourself enjoy things for once."

he tacks on a quick "my dear," at the end to make it more amenable.

crowley spreads his legs, feeling cocky. "alright, then. indulge me."

and if there ever were a green light that aziraphale would heed to without questioning, that was it. he falls upon him, dipping between his parted thighs, and pumping at his red, turgid cock. crowley curves into it, his spine arching. he'd control himself if he had half a mind to do anything other than take right now. to take, and to accept what's given. he has to wonder if this part of him does as much for aziraphale as he hopes it might. being submissive, at his disposal. polite and obedient, willing in a way he so rarely is with his wits in full check. he doesn't want to be disappointing. and he knows - he knows aziraphale would insist that this is _for him._ but the sting never eases, and his worry only fades to insistent white noise.

"feels good," he chokes, reaching out do do something, anything. a vague gesture of reciprocation. aziraphale takes his hand without falter, bringing it to his lips, and pressing warmth against each fingertip.

"oh? i should hope so." there's a giggle from the angel, and crowley fails scowling at him, his face scrunching up with pleasure instead.

"fingers, angel." he says. "want your fingers. inside me, i mean."

"wasn't expecting to put them anywhere else, love."

"stop _mocking_ me when we have sex." crowley snorts, thankful for his increased mental capacity when aziraphale tugs his hand away. "you're humiliating."

"shush. thought you liked that."

" _bastard._ "

aziraphale sucks his own fingers into his mouth momentarily, getting them slick. "i certainly can be."

crowley shivers then, basking in anticipation as aziraphale's hand sinks out of sight. he feels the soft, mellow press at his entrance, and his pulse kicks up faster. aziraphale's presence can't be taken without ceremony, of course. the fingers toy with him as he waits, rubbing over each sensitive furl, and finally - _thank somebody_ \- pushing inside.

crowley sobs. it's a wet, wretched sound. agonized in the kindest manner an angel could ever pursue. his whole body reacts to it, to the solid intrusion. hot, heavy weight forcing him open, stretching him for his own satisfaction. aziraphale's doing this to _satiate_ him, he realizes. to soothe that horrid burn, the heat he so desperately combs over, tries to ignore. 

his fingers rake upon his prostate, nails catching with excess caution. and crowley gasps - crowley _begs._ he lets himself beg for more. pleading with aziraphale; _'please, please, i'll sit still, i'll take anything you have to give me. please fill me up, take care of me, use me and love me and_ please!' aziraphale listens. aziraphale gives. he shuffles to his knees, lining up with crowley, and spearing into him. thicker and longer than he usually is, if only for a bit of wish fulfillment on crowley's behalf.

crowley's eyes widen, and his mouth drops open. he looks helpless like this. pink and pale and helpless. clutching the sheets like a spoiled tart, and whimpering - _whimpering_ for him as aziraphale picks up his pace.

"good boy. oh, my darling, my dearest - you feel so good. you've been so sweet for me, just perfect. do you think you can cum? i want to see you cum so _badly,_ crowley." 

aziraphale's voice is what eventually hurtles him into his descent. his cock brims over, slick with spend and precum as it throbs against his tummy. aziraphale chases after him in earnest, finding his own orgasm in gentle, pulsing waves. his cum splotches against crowley's thighs in a fine claim of ownership. faintly wet, yet anything but uncomfortable.

aziraphale clambers him into his arms. squeezing the tiny frame he loves so dearly, and making sure he feels utterly protected.

"lovely," he murmurs, kissing at crowley's still trembling shoulders. "you were so lovely."

and crowley, despite his fatigue, can't find it in himself to disagree.


End file.
